Correspondence was not much fun anymore. i was lucky if i got a card in the mail. emails made me nervous because there were so many awaiting reply. the days of receiving long letters penned in script by hand in ink on someone’s personal stationery were over. i had a thought. if i took the time to write letters the old way again, bypassing text and email and chat and video, and even bypassing phone, would I get a response in kind? and then might time turn back for us and write our lives the way we once wrote them, when we wrote long missives on personal stationery with silver trim and painted envelopes, hanging sideways over our elbows, quietly playing with each letter, slowly, conscientiously by scripted hands, young and rolling in ink.
Hi. We met and talked for ten random minutes. We traded emails, remember? I convinced you we had something in common.
Your intuition told you the digits should remain inaccessible.
Now, months later, I am slow and steady emailing you to death.
This is my fantasy. To know you, with or without your consent. Can you blame me?
Who wouldn’t want to know a girl with such long legs and eyelashes, perfect teeth and intuition?